


Dancing, Trust And Friends.

by Thousandsmiles



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Dancing, Friendship, Gen, Pre-Thor (2011)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 15:34:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7513679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thousandsmiles/pseuds/Thousandsmiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A oneshot from Sif's point of view about her relationship with Loki as he helps her to learn to dance for an event that evening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing, Trust And Friends.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Thor.

Sif cursed as she hit the floor one more time. She levered herself to her feet smoothly, cursed again and set herself back in the starting position. If this was a fighting style, she would already have the basics but it wasn’t a fighting style or in fact anything to do with fighting. Sif almost laughed at the irony. She was a female warrior who could fight with the best of the warriors of Asgard, powerful and beautiful in motion and yet, she couldn’t dance. It wasn’t that different! It wasn’t! Yet for some reason, her feet would not follow the steps, could not match the time of the music, could not spin as graceful and deadly as she could on the battle field.  But this evening was a different kind of battlefield. A royal dance, accorded because of diplomats from another realm who hold dancing in high esteem and one of the few times when the women of the courts get to shine. She was invited of course, as a close friend of the crown prince, but Sif knew that this time, that alone would not win this far subtler field of war. For dance was something women were expected to do well at and Sif wanted to prove she was as much a woman as the rest of them. For she didn’t want to be a woman pretending to be a male warrior, she wanted to show herself as a woman warrior. Showing that she could not do what women do as well, would undo her years of work to be noticed as a female warrior and leave her open to the poisonous words of the female members of the court and  the rest of Asgard in general.  But unfortunately for her, she just couldn’t dance.

She had just barely stopped herself from falling again when she heard a smooth voice, laced with amusement say:

“Well, well, that’s certainly not something you see every day.”

She hissed a curse. The norns must really hate her. “Go away Loki!” she said through gritted teeth.

“But why ever so? I have not had amusement such as this for many, many days.  You would not be as so cruel as to tear from me a reprieve from boredom would, Lady Sif?”

“That and more,” she said shortly and aloofly. And set herself in the starting position once more. Of all the people to find her, just the one she really, really didn’t want to find out about this. It would only be fuel on his acid tongue the next time they got into a polite spat. For she and Loki had a rocky relationship at best, the rocking starting from the time he had cut off her lovely, golden curls. He had of course paid for it dearly but even so she had been unwilling at first to allow him her forgiveness even though he apologized to her several times. She had, however, later decided that she would not act like a little child about the matter. It was only hair and it had gown back, albeit black. As a warrior she must be capable of taking losses and learning to move on despite those losses. And the black hair really did make her look more formidable. So she had accepted his apology and put it all behind her as best as she could but ever since then they had not been able to forge a truly whole friendship. There was too much pain and grievances on both sides and they mostly managed by sniping at each other, pointing out one another’s weak points and forcing the other to eradicate them. But it worked for them, strangely enough.  For Sif knew that he had her back in battle as surely as she had his and should he be injured she would care. For one does not spend centuries as battle companions and be unable to care. He was difficult to love and difficult to hate.  Pleasant when he was feeling amiable to you, deadly when he wasn’t. Difficult to trust, for he always lied and yet, Sif could not recall a time when she had mistaken his truth for a lie. Others did, but not her. She supposed it was just one of the rare few gifts of a woman, to see past outer facades as if they were but the merest of mist.

She started out the steps of the dance, the first few being of relative ease until she hit the slightly more complicated part where her steps became uneven and less sure and by the time she reached the part where she must spin on her toes to change direction, she slipped and fell. Her combat training kicked in and she landed without injury as she had been doing for the past two hours.

She heard a light laugh. “Surely you cannot be that incapacitated when it comes to the wondrous art of dance,” Loki said to her mockingly.

“And surely you cannot be anymore a disaster than you are in the true art of battle,” she snapped back at him but it had not heat and no barbs and Loki knew it. She levered herself off the floor and repositioned herself and was about to take the first step again when she realized Loki was standing in front of her.

“Move from my way, Loki,” she said.

He merely raised an eyebrow and said, “Ordering your prince?” but he then he smiled and said, “But of course for the Lady,” and stepped back.  She gritted her teeth and began to move but this time Loki circulated around her, never in her way but never out of her space either, his sharp eyes noting her every movement and critiquing it. Sif ignored him and concentrated on the dance.

“You know,” he started up conversationally,” It is truly remarkable that you can outmaneuver Fandrel and Volgstagg and even Thor on occasion and yet cannot complete simple dance steps. They are not at all unalike.”

“I know!”she snapped at him and then tried the spin again, far more vehemently than usual, and of course, fell. But Loki causally grabbed her by the arm and steadied her and then, just as causally took up her other arm and continued talking saying:

“Your problem Lady Sif, lies in that you do not actually know how they are different. For to you, it is just movements and all movements are alike, are they not?”

Before Sif had quite understood what was happening, he had arranged one of her arms around his neck and had one of his hands resting gently on her shoulder blade and the other was holding her free hand.

“There is a difference however and it lies mainly in the intent. When you try to dance you think of it as fighting and in fighting, you dance to trip you partner as fast and as efficiently as possible. But when you are dancing however, are you listening?”

“Yes!” she said, which was the only reason she hadn’t stepped out of his hold yet and punched him to the ground.

“Well, when you are dancing, you do your best not to trip your partner,”

He carefully took the male lead in the dance and lead her slowly around the dance floor, “And you trust that they are doing their best not to trip you.”

They stepped once, twice, three times before Sif said, “And I must believe you aren’t going to trip me?” with just that amount of challenge in her voice.

He laughed. “But of course not! I am Loki! However,” he added after a moment, more somberly “Even I do….favors for a friend.”

And just like that, he reminded her that she actually liked Loki. That they actually were friends. It was sad, how easy it was for them to forget that. It was almost impossible to forget that Thor was your friend but Loki, lying, cheating, mischievous Loki, was much too easy to dislike and then you couldn’t actually stay mad at him which was probably the reason most of them truly did dislike him.

Like their relationship however, Sif’s affection for the younger prince was rocky. She hated him for being able to have so easily the acceptance of being a warrior and yet throwing it away on studying magic. Yet she loved him for the same. For he pursued his study of magic just as ruthlessly as she studied combat and she admired him for the way he seemed untouched by all the poisonous words thrown his way, for words wounded her in a way swords didn’t. He was resilient and his love, like hers, was true.

She had many a time seen him sitting, hidden away in some garden or the other where he tried the one spell over and over, struggling to get it, being elated when it worked once and crushed when it didn’t seem to want to happen again and being furiously devoted to it until it came out right again in the end. And he had reminded her, so much of herself, practicing secretly the techniques she had learned over and over until she perfected them. Perhaps it was familiarity that bred their mutual contempt but also their mutual fondness for the other.

They continued stepping across the floor, and Sif concentrated on his advice and found to her surprise, that her body moved far more easily into the steps. They reached the spot where she had to spin and thought she was afraid he might let her fall, she was reassured by his earlier reaction where he had caught her. She let go of him, spun on her toes and he stepped easily in front of her and she dropped down her arm around his neck and he caught her other hand and the dance proceeded smoothly. 

When it was finished they started it back again in silence, for Loki knew that she remember earlier by doing something than having it told to her and so they danced again and he carefully nudged her into the correct positions throughout the dance and helped her on the really complicated sections.  And Sif found that, as in battle, she could trust him here. For as much as the dance floor was a battlefield, the battlefield was a dance floor and if she could trust Loki there, she could trust him here.

They went through the dance once more and Sif found herself being grateful that Loki was a skillful dancer as he was for he carried her through each part with ease. Then she stopped thinking about both of them and just moved, letting her muscles remember and carry her through the steps with her usual grace and power and they glided through the dance as if they were floating. 

When they were finished she made to step back but Loki held her back. She glared at him, her goodwill instantly beginning to seep away.

He took one look at her face and smiled that charming, endearing smirk of his and said, “Well really Sif,  if you want to go through the whole ball knowing only one dance, that’s fine by me. Or were you only planning to dance once?” And quirked an eyebrow at her.

She scowled at him but did not tug her hand away. When she didn’t, he smiled again and then carefully led her through the steps of a new dance, explaining what she ought to do, moment before she did them and it was a nice challenge of sorts and helped her work through the dance far faster than she had the first one. It was when they were on the second repetition of the new dance when something occurred to her and she said, “Loki,”

“Yes?” inquiringly.

“You said that you have to trust that the other person is trying their best not to trip you.”

“Yes?” a little impatient.

“What do you do when they aren’t or don’t want to? For example, when you go on diplomatic relations to other realms.”

“If it’s a diplomatic trip, Lady Sif,” he said acidly, “you really don’t want to trip your dance partner.”

“Yes, but…” she stopped and bit her lip trying how to phrase what she wanted to say without getting him mad at her.

“How do I manage when the other person doesn’t care if they trip me so long as no one trips Thor, or when my partner doesn’t trust me to not trip them?” cool, studied, nonchalant. She had used the same tone too many times not to recognize it. She wanted to apologize but it was Loki and she didn’t know how.

“Yes,” she said instead, coldly.

“My, you are taking far too many knocks to the head Lady Sif, if the answer cannot occur to you.”

When she didn’t rise to the barb and just waited he sighed and answered carelessly, “You simply trust yourself not to fall in the event that they do attempt to trip you.” And he carefully watched over her shoulder. Sif simply nodded and they lapsed back into silence until he taught her a third dance and when they had finished rehearsing, he declared her ready and then with a mock bow, he left and Sif stood in the middle of the dance floor, unable to tell, just what it was she was feeling.

 

* * *

 

 

The feast was a success all round and everyone was in a much happier frame of mind when the dancing part of the celebration was to begin. Loki must have been spoken to by the All-father, for no tricks appeared in this banquet. Or, she decided as she spotted a sidelong glance Loki gave to the queen, the All-mother might have been the one to speak to him.

However after the first dance, the tension within the room began to build as the war, subtly began. Sif could feel many eyes on her as she sat out dance after dance and the sly smiles of some of the women and yes, some of the men. However she sat calmly until the right kind of music started and then tipped her head to Fandrel whose face lit up like a thousand suns in awe and disbelief and his ego swelled to unknown proportions.  Sif sighed. She’d have to beat him extra hard tomorrow.  However he came up to her, sketched a gracious bow and they swirled out onto the dance floor. Sif was at first nervous but, Fandrel was her shield companion and she knew she could trust him here.  They went through the dance without the slightest hitch and after, Fandrel deposited her back to her seat and left with a daringly taken kiss on the back of her hand.

She once more sat and waited, appearing calm and dignified although she mentally smiled when she noticed the increased amount of whispers and dirty looks. First battle, won.

Finally the second dance she knew came around and Sif stood, indicated that she was open for a partner. She waited a moment and then noticed one of the young men whose mother was high in the Queen’s court and who disliked Sif intensely, a disliked that was shared by her whole family, approaching her with a cruel smile. Sif simply waited with her back straight and when he asked, smirking, she accepted graciously and allowed him to lead her onto the floor. She was less nervous now, than the first time, but this time, she knew she could not trust her partner and she was inordinately glad she had asked Loki what to do. She shook her head mentally and then concentrated on the dance. It was more difficult than the first and there were indeed many parts that, if she fell, she could be seriously hurt for a while, taking her out of combat for a while. She would have to be extra careful. But she was the Lady Sif! And she had seen more battle than this porous worm. She would not be tripped by him, she would not allow herself to be humiliated by him. She knew the steps and her body remembered remarkably fast. She could trust herself!

They sailed into the dance and many a time he tried to make her lose her balance, or to misstep but Sif, carried on as usual, no less graceful for all his efforts until at the end when he tried too hard and misstepped himself and Sif steadied him, gave him a charmed smile and finished the dance. And smiled wider when he left fuming and she caught the sight of the vengeful look in his mother’s eyes as well as the poorly hidden looks of wrath from the other women who had danced that particular dance but had been overshadowed by her flawless grace.

Second battle, won.

Sif returned to her seat and sat down and sipped from a glass of light wine, pondering what she should do for her third dance. The third dance that Loki had taught her was extremely complicated and ridiculously difficult, yet, she had caught o the second time and could not execute it almost flawlessly. However the number of people she could actually dance that dance with were rather low due to its difficulty. There as Thor of course, if Loki knew it, then he had to. But then there were other nobles, none of whom she like the look of as well as the diplomats from the other realm themselves. Her gaze hitched back as she noticed one of the young diplomats staring at her and then continued forward as if naught had happened.  Well, that was her answer. No doubt he would be a good dancer, coming from a society which lauded dance, and if her dancing skills, she hoped it was her dancing skills, were good enough to attract him, then the war would be won. This part of it anyway.

Settled in her mind she sat back in her chair and enjoyed the rest of her wine as she gazed about the gathering. She had almost finished nursing the glass of wine and the music for the more difficult dances beginning when Sif spotted Loki lounging against the wall behind all the chairs, almost hidden in shadow as he watched the celebrations around him. She stared at him for a moment and then cast back in her mind and found that she could not remember actually seeing him dance at all tonight. She blinked wondering why and then remembered their earlier conversation.

_“How do I manage when the other person doesn’t care if they trip me so long as no one trips Thor, or when my partner doesn’t trust me to not trip them?”_

Oh.

She looked to Thor and noticed the amount of women hovering in his general direction and then back to Loki, half hidden and alone, despite also being a prince of Asgard and the same feeling she had when he had left her this afternoon, assaulted her. That blend of horror and sorrow and regret that weighed on her chest and on her heart.

She heard the music begin to change again and looked away from Loki and back to the celebrations in time to see the young diplomat coming towards her. She calmly stood and readied herself to accept his invitation to dance but then her eyes drifted back to Loki and she made a sudden decision. She twisted, and to the surprise of the young diplomat, walked away towards the back of the room.

Loki turned at that moment and saw her approaching. His brow creased for a moment before he smoothed it away into his court mask.

“Lady Sif,” he greeted her formally as she approached.

“Price Loki,” she greeted as formally and saw one of his eyebrows raise laconically.

“May I assist you in some way?” he asked mockingly, knowing she hated to ask for help, but this time she surprised him by answering:

“Yes, actually. I find myself in need of a dance partner.”

She saw the confusion cross his face for a moment and then the quick calculating look before they both disappeared behind the mask.

“I believe,” he said, still formal,” that there is a foreign diplomat who wishes to dance with you. If you go to him, your problem is solved.”

“I think he’s already taken,” she told him coolly.

“He is not,” just as coolly.

“Yes,” she said firmly, “he is.”

Loki opened his mouth to refute her, looking angrier by the second and then closed it and then opened it again to hiss, “What are you doing Sif? I’ll thank you to keep me out of trouble this time. I’ve neither the time nor the inclination for one of your spats.”

“This isn’t a spat,” she told him, gritting her teeth and wished he would just come along for once.

“Then what is it?!”

“A thank you,” she said and couldn’t help but smile smugly when she noticed that for once she had rendered his silver tongue speechless.

She waited while he weighed his options and then finally, disbelievingly he said, “I will not stop a Lady from paying her debts.” And held out his hand.  She accepted it and, to the surprise of many, led her out onto the floor.

The music was just beginning for the dance as they set themselves into position and then…they started. They started in a rush of motion that slowed down as it stretched into a turn and sped up just as rapidly as the turn was completed. They matched their steps just like they had done that evening as they worked their way through more turns, spins, releases, a myriad of fancy footwork and of course, the most difficult, the challenging lifts. Yet they glided through it like it was the easiest thing in the world and for a moment Sif forget it was a battle and just danced releasing all her joy and power into it, making it hers and dancing to the world in general and she could, because she trusted that, even in her rapture, her partner would not trip her nor let her fall and she knew that she would do the same for him.

At some point in the dance Sif realized that all the other dancers had cleared the floor and it was just Loki and her who were left, weaving a beautiful motion on the dance floor and not wanting to stop. For she saw now as they were dancing, the same joy in him as he moved and she realized that he loved it, loved to dance. And she realized now, just how much bigger than a simple thank you this was.

Finally however the music slowed and so did they until they came to a halt in the middle of the floor where they separated and he bowed politely over her hand. And around them she could hear the hearty cheers of Thor and their friends among the many malicious whispers but they were both surprised to turn and see the table of foreign diplomats standing and clapping.

The lead diplomat turned and announced to Odin, “It has been a long time since I have seen so good a pair of dancers outside of my own realm. It was most gratifying to see.” And Odin smiled back and made a diplomatic reply and both Sif and Loki bowed their thanks to the compliments and swished off the dance floor. As they did so, Sif noted the looks of those who had sought to hurt her with their looks and their words and couldn’t help but be pleased at the looks they now wore in the face of the turn of events.

Third and last battle. Won. Status of war: won.

Loki deposited her to her seat but she stopped him before he could leave.

“What is it now Sif?” he said impatiently. She held up a single finger. He frowned and then was hit by the avalanche that was Thor.

“Brother! That was masterful dancing! You and the Lady Sif have pleased the diplomats! Come let us drink to your success!” He was half drunk already. Loki glared at her and tried to maneuver away from Thor but was blocked by the other three as they came to congratulate them both on their dancing.

He glared at her again as his way back to the shadows was blocked by them. She held out another glass of wine to him though and said, “Come sit with us. I’m not going to do anymore dancing and I don’t think anyone is either.”

His eyes narrowed at the glass for a moment and then he sighed a reluctant sigh and took it.

“Very well,” he said and sat but she didn’t miss the softening of his features as he did so. Despite everything, they were friends, and it was about time that they both remembered it a little more frequently.

 

 


End file.
